


Sometimes

by strange_highs_and_strange_lowss



Category: Depeche Mode
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-03
Updated: 2019-04-03
Packaged: 2019-09-06 04:58:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 18,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16825603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strange_highs_and_strange_lowss/pseuds/strange_highs_and_strange_lowss
Summary: Alan Wilder/Dave Gahan (Dalan). Alan and Dave have an odd relationship, sometimes being sweet and caring and other days mean and annoyed. Martin observes their friendship from afar, and then one day while drunk, Alan cracks and, confiding in Martin, he admits something he never wanted anybody to know. Told first in Martin’s POV, then circulating between Alan’s and Dave’s.





	1. Martin

Martin’s POV. Late summer, or early fall, whichever you please, of 1984. 

Dave flopped down on the couch in the studio and groaned. “Are you done already, Alan? I want a drink.” 

“Such a hard day, then? Sitting around and watching the rest of us work?” Alan said as he shot Dave a glare. 

The two of them had been arguing for the entire day, and it was getting quite tiresome and slightly childish. Alan was grumpy because he was working and Dave kept fooling around, and Dave was fooling around because he was extremely bored with next to nothing to do. He had already supplied all of the necessary vocals for the album, and now Alan, Flood, Daniel and I were mixing the songs. Dave found this tiring, and preferred when we were creating the basis of songs, the vocals and sounds and lyrics, when the conversation went easily and everyone was cheerful, or as cheerful as we could get. I was more melancholy than cheerful, usually, and Andy was often more interested in working or eating. Then there was the case of Alan, who was usually in an alright mood from what I could tell, but always had an attitude towards Dave, who was usually eager to pick a good-natured fight.

I didn’t know what was going on between Dave and Alan. Sometimes they were like best friends, there for each other and quick to defend each other, and sometimes it seemed like they would rip each other’s heads off if they had the chance. There was one night where I wondered whether Dave liked Alan; it had snowed a lot that day and frozen eventually. Alan had been cold on the way to our hotel at the time on the way from the bar, and he had run the last half-block and just before getting to the lobby he slipped and fell on the icy sidewalk. He had hit his head and we discovered upon examination that he had a concussion, but although he seemed fine I remembered the way Dave had let out a panicked cry and then knelt down on the sidewalk next to Alan, ever so gently cradling his head in his arms and talking to him, making sure he was all right, and when we called the ambulance he had ridden next to Alan, holding his hand tightly. I remembered how he had given Alan his coat so that he could keep warm, and how he had looked at Alan so affectionately. 

Maybe it was just the alcohol, Dave had had a few glasses and he was tipsy, or maybe it was that Dave had a really tender side to his relationship with Alan, a loving side that came out when Alan was in need of it. But I had never seen Dave like that with Alan before, and I couldn’t help but wonder.

And now, the way he spoke to Alan so irritably—no, Dave didn’t like him. 

“Snap out of it, Martin,” Flood told me, and pointed towards the desk. “We think we’ve got the final version of Blasphemous Rumours, what do you think?” He gestured to Alan, who pressed a button on the console and leaned back in his chair with that self-satisfied smirk on his face. 

I listened to the song, and after some thought I decided that it was ready. 

“So, can we celebrate at the bar now?” Dave asked, and he sat up eagerly.

“I could go for a drink,” Fletch announced as he stood up and stretched. 

Alan and I agreed as well, and we all got in Fletch’s car and drove to Dave’s favorite bar. I decided that I wasn’t going to drink, as it was a whole scene when I got drunk and I usually ended up naked and draped over Alan’s and Andy’s shoulders to be taken home and given annoyed looks and Dave’s bathrobe. 

I was tempted once the others started drinking, but I settled for fish and chips and a soda. Surprisingly, Alan was going heavy on the bottle that night, and he got drunk fairly quickly. While Dave and Andy got up and decided to have a go at the dance floor, Alan stayed behind with me and finished the bottle of beer in front of him. 

“Hey Mart, you know something?” Alan asked, a smile plastered onto his face. 

“Hmm?” I wondered if Alan was going to go and tell me something completely outrageous or open up to me without knowing it. 

“I think I’m in love with Dave, Mart, what do you think about that? Ridiculous, huh? He hates my guts, y’know. I’ll never have a chance. Here I was, thinking I was straight as a pin! Ha!” he laughed, looking innocently at me. 

“No, Al, don’t say that. Of course you have a chance, everybody does at love,” I tried to console him. 

“Yeah, ‘cept for me. I’m Charlie, Mart, and everybody thinks I’m just a mean, sarcastic, people-hating bloke. They don’t reckon I’ve got feelings just like the rest of us, y’know?” he asked ruefully, and I couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. 

“Oh, Al, people like you, don’t worry. I like you, you know.”

“Do you now? Want a kiss, Marty?” He puckered his lips, and leaned in a little bit with a grin.

“No, silly. I meant I think you’re an interesting person with feelings who’s well worth knowing, and you certainly have a chance with Dave,” I told him. 

“Boring. Please? I haven’t had a kiss in a long time,” Alan complained with an extravagant pout.

“Oh, Alan….look, kiss someone you like.” 

“Like you, Marty…” he closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair like he had earlier, minus the smirk. 

I smiled to myself and looked at the dance floor, where Dave was dancing in quite a suggestive way while Fletch was laughing at him with all his might. Dave saw me and yelled for me to come join him, but I didn’t feel like it. I wondered if what Alan told me was true. 

Dave wandered back to the table that Alan and I were sitting at. 

“Dave!” Alan exclaimed joyfully. 

“Charlie!” Dave yelled, and then sat himself right in Alan’s lap and made himself comfortable. 

I couldn’t really believe my eyes. I wondered if this was all drunken stupidness or if they actually liked each other. I didn’t know whether I was rooting for it or not; I loved seeing people fall in love—it was good material for songs as well as enjoyable and heartwarming—, but I was worried that it would mess up the band if Dave and Alan started dating. 

All else put aside, they looked very cute together, snuggled up in Alan’s chair. Dave had tucked himself safely in Alan’s arms, and he was kissing Alan’s face and neck like it was completely normal for him. Alan was mumbling something to Dave, and he was patting Dave’s hair gently with his fingertips.

Fletch came over to our table, sipping beer, and nearly spit it out when he saw Dave and Alan. 

“Oi, Martin, what’s up with that?” he asked, looking like he’d just seen a pig fly. “They hate each other!” 

“Well, apparently they don’t.” I was surprised that Andy hadn’t picked up on something between them. 

Andy took Alan’s camera from him, which he usually took with him to see if he could get a good picture, and before I could stop them he took a picture just when Dave’s lips were touching Alan’s cheek in yet another kiss. 

“Andy,” I reprimanded him. “They’re drunk, they don’t know any better.” 

“C’mon, Al would do the same to me if I went bonkers and started kissing you,” he defended himself. 

“No, he wouldn’t,” I said, mostly to myself. Andy could make Alan mad if he wanted. He put the picture in his pocket, and I couldn’t help but feel a little bad for Dave and Alan. 

Speaking of which, Dave had now moved from Alan’s cheek to his lips, and I noticed it was turning into a makeout session, so I stood up and paid the tab. 

“Al. Dave. Let’s go,” Andy told them, attempting to pull Dave off of Alan. He succeeded, being stronger than Dave, and Dave made a disappointed little sound and tugged on Alan’s hand like a child might. Alan put his arm around Dave’s shoulders and they followed Fletch and I out of the bar. 

When we got back to the hotel in Berlin, Dave tried to follow Alan into his room and Andy put his foot down then. 

“Oh, no you don’t Dave. C’mon, go to your own room. You can be with Alan again tomorrow.”

Dave pouted. “But I want to be with Ally now,” he complained, and Alan nodded and pulled Dave away from Andy. 

Fletch sighed. “Why did you two idiots drink so much?” he groaned, yanking Dave out of Alan’s arms and directing him to his own room. 

Alan looked devastated at the turn of events, so I tried to comfort him, and he thanked me quietly. 

“Mart?” he asked just before closing the door. 

“Do you think Dave actually likes me?” 

“Ask him in the morning,” I told him quietly. He nodded and closed the door, and I wondered if either of them would remember in the morning. Part of me sort of hoped they wouldn’t, as it would be embarrassing for them, but the other part hoped they would, as I was fairly sure at least one of them liked the other. Of course, there was also the whole dating your bandmate set of problems, but if they did love each other I wanted it to work out.


	2. Dave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dave admits he has feelings for Alan.

Dave’s POV (the next morning)

I slowly opened my eyes, wincing as the bright sunlight hit me. I heard muffled yells of “Dave! Dave!” outside my door, so I dragged myself out of bed and answered the door. 

“What do you—” I started, then my mouth hung open. 

Alan was standing in the doorway, a panicked look on his face. He held up a Polaroid that I assumed was from last night. 

In the picture, I was sitting in his lap, and he was touching my hair and allowing me to kiss his cheek. 

“Al,” I said, mostly to myself, but he looked up anyway.

“I know. Well, I think the only people we knew were Martin and Fletch, but everyone else is going to think—”

“It’s bad enough that Andy and Martin know, they’re going to just make fun of us!” 

“That’s not even the whole story, apparently last night I told Mart that I was in love with you, and now I have to convince him that I’m not,” Alan groaned dramatically. 

“Are you?”

I caught Alan by surprise. He stuttered for a moment, blushing, and I wondered for a moment. 

What if he was in love with me? I couldn’t help but hope a little bit that he was. Yes, it wouldn’t exactly be the ideal relationship, but I was in love with Alan, enough to do something crazy like have a relationship like this. 

“Al?” I asked, since he’d spaced out. 

“No. Of course I’m not,” he said, and I think he was trying to reassure me but it did the opposite. 

“Yeah,” I said, forcing a smile. “Here, give it to me, I’ll throw it out.”  
He gave me the picture, and I tossed it in the general direction of the wastebasket, intending fully to take it back out later. 

“Well, I guess I’ll get dressed. See you in the studio,” I said, shifting my weight from foot to foot. He nodded and left, and I closed the door, immediately sinking to the floor. I took the picture and studied it closely, and I could sort of remember what it felt like to be so close to Alan. It felt right, like this was where I was meant to be. I remembered how soft his skin was, and I remembered his fingers running through my hair. I remembered him whispering something to me, but I couldn’t for the life of me think what it was. 

I threw on a shirt and a pair of pants, feeling upset the whole time. I wanted so badly to remember what he said to me. I looked at the picture again, and suddenly I remembered begging Fletch to stay overnight with Alan, and Alan unsuccessfully trying to pull me into his room. 

I left my room, and ran down the hallway as fast as I could, trying to remember which room was Alan’s. 

I found it only because Alan was just coming out of his, and I nearly ran into him.

“Al!” I said breathlessly. “Did you ask me to stay overnight?” 

“Dave,” he said. “I was drunk.” 

“Yeah, but did you want me to?” 

“This conversation is ridiculous. I told you, I was drunk,” Alan said, trying to push past me. 

“Wait, Alan, but would you want me to now?” 

He gave me the strangest look. “Don’t ask stupid questions,” he said, then went back in his room and closed the door before I could say anything else. 

I waited patiently for him to come out, and when he did he did not look happy. He looked sad for a minute, then just angry. 

“Alan? Can you please do something for me?” 

“Dave, leave me alone. Just go away,” he snapped, and then stomped off in the direction of the elevator. I realized I should be going to the studio too, so I followed him into the elevator before the doors closed.

“Dave, what did I say? Leave me alone!” 

I kissed him, and for the one and a half minutes we were on the elevator he kissed me back passionately. Then the elevator hit the ground floor, and he walked away without a second glance.

“Don’t ever talk about this again, and I don’t want to hear it. I was drunk, and this was to get you to leave me alone,” he said firmly, then stalked off. 

I knew better than to follow him when he was in a mood like this, but I did anyway. He turned around, looking possibly the angriest I’ve ever seen him. He grabbed my wrist and pulled me to the side of the lobby. 

“David, what do you want from me? What do you want?” 

I was almost scared by the look on his face, but I recovered and noticed immediately how incredibly hot he looked. 

“David,” he growled again. 

“Fine. I want your affection,” I told him, and then it was my turn to stalk off and I got to the studio before he did. 

When he got there, I sat in the corner sulking just to piss him off, and it worked. He was going to mix Somebody that day, and I felt incredibly annoyed that Martin got to be the one that Alan played for, and he got to undress himself in front of him, and Alan didn’t even bat an eye. I know because Martin told me exactly when I begged him to tell me out of curiosity and jealousness, and I wanted to be in his place. I wanted him to play the piano just for me, and I wanted him to love me. I refused to accept that it probably would never work out, either, and I could be stubborn if I wanted to and I was that day. 

I stayed there, sulking, the entire day, refusing to eat anything but what Alan gave me—or more accurately, forced into my mouth—and making occasional grumpy comments. By 7 PM the entire band was sick and tired of me, and they were exhausted from a long day. The album was almost finished, though—only It Doesn’t Matter and Something to Do were left, and it was turning out well, in my opinion, and I would tell everyone tomorrow when I wasn’t in such a bad mood, although my mood was mostly dramatics to exasperate Alan. 

Martin and Andy decided to go sightseeing at night to enjoy their last few days in Berlin, so only Alan and I were going back to the hotel. When we got out of the elevator, Alan took me with him without a word. He sat me down on the edge of his bed, sitting next to me, and I knew he was not happy. 

“Right, Dave, what the hell was that for?” 

“I was in a bad mood—” I started, but Alan cut me off. 

“I don’t mean the dramatics you put on, I mean when you told me you wanted my affection. You were messing with me, leading me on, weren’t you?” 

“No,” I said, almost embarrassed. 

“Meaning?” 

“Meaning I want your affection, Alan, what else?” 

“So you just want to be kissed or you’re actually in love with me?” 

“The second one,” I mumbled, looking down. 

“No kidding?”

I shook my head. “Sorry,” I said quietly, standing up to leave. 

“For what?” 

“I don’t know,” I admitted, laughing a little. 

Alan smiled at me. “You’re okay, then, you always are when you laugh. Come here for a moment, would you?”

I did, and he hugged me tightly, then pulled me down on the bed so I was snuggled up against him. We stayed that way for quite a while, and then he kissed my cheek. 

“Night, Dave,” he told me, stroking my hair. 

“You expect me to leave? Please, Charlie?” I asked, giving him my best sad face. 

“C’mon, Dave, we both know it’s not a good idea…” 

I waited for him to change his mind. 

“Oh, Dave, just go to your own room, okay? I don’t know what to do and it’s not going to help if you’re in my bed.” 

“Fine,” I said, dragging myself out the door and going back to my room. 

Lying down, I couldn’t fall asleep. I missed Alan next to me, just knowing that there was a chance he wanted to date me. 

Finally, I heard someone knock on my door, and I got out of bed in such a hurry that my foot got caught in the sheets and I hit my head on the wall. 

Rubbing my head and cursing under my breath, I opened the door. As I’d hoped, it was Alan. 

He gave me a concerned look. “Should I be worried? I can’t sleep. Can I stay with you?” 

“Of course you can!” I smiled widely, happy that he was staying over with me after all. 

He took off his shoes and his jacket, and then he got into bed next to me. 

“Going to get hair gel all over my pillow,” I complained teasingly. 

“You’ll have to wash it out of my hair then, won’t you?” 

“Can I?” 

“No,” he said, adjusting the covers so that he had most of them. 

“Charlie,” I groaned. “I’m cold!” 

“So am I,” he said, then without warning he pressed himself against me, pulling the covers with him, and put an arm around my shoulders. 

“There. Now you’ll be fine. Happy?” he asked quietly. 

“Yeah,” I said, burying my face in his shoulder and kissing his collarbone. 

“Dave! Don’t do that!”

“Why not?” I asked, propping my head up and frowning slightly. 

“Because I’m trying to get to sleep and that’s not calming me down,” he told me, finding my hand and squeezing it. 

“Oh. Sorry.” He snuggled against me again and closed his eyes, and I could feel his breathing even out in only a few minutes. I stayed awake, though, not wanting to miss a moment of Alan letting me sleep next to him. 

An hour or so later, Alan woke up. “Dave? Can’t you sleep?” 

“I don’t want to miss any of being here with you,” I said, yawning. 

He smiled, kissing the tip of my nose. “That’s sweet. I promise you, there will be many more nights like this. Just sleep, okay?” 

“Really?”

“Yeah. You should sleep now, Dave, or you’ll be exhausted tomorrow.” 

I nodded and let Alan smooth out my shirt, then he caressed my face until we both fell asleep, and I sort of wondered what I’d gotten myself into, but ultimately decided to worry about it later.


	3. Alan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alan realizes his affection for Dave.

I woke up to Dave shaking my shoulders. 

“Alan, quick, go back to your room before anyone notices you’re not there,” he whispered, and I reached for my shoes, completely disoriented. Dave helped me smooth out my clothes, and once I put on my jacket he kissed me. 

“Thanks, Al,” he said, hugging me. 

“For what? Stealing your covers?”

He laughed. “For being with me. Out you go, Charlie, I don’t want Fletch to think we’re like Mart,” he joked, then pushed me out the door before I understood what he meant. 

“Very funny, Dave,” I said through the door, then I went back to my room, missing Dave’s lightheartedness and affection already.

I looked into the bathroom mirror, outlining my eyes with eyeliner as had become my habit. One of the things Dave had told me when we were drunk was that I looked hot with eyeliner, so now I was determined to wear it as much as possible. 

I sprawled myself out on the bed, trying to think of ideas for the final mix of Something to Do. It had been the hardest so far, and I didn’t know how to start it. Everything I did seemed wrong. 

I groaned out loud, running my hands through my hair. I looked at my hand, which was now covered in gel, and I realized with a low chuckle that maybe I should have let Dave wash my hair last night. 

I went back to the bathroom and worked more gel into my hair until it looked presentable, and then I chose out new clothes and left for the studio with an idea for Something To Do—what if I started it with the gurgling sample we had taken several months ago? It seemed like it would set the mood, and since we’d used the same sound in Blasphemous Rumours it would link the two together to indicate they were in the same album. 

Proud of myself, I didn’t look twice when I got into the elevator, which resulted in me getting pinned to the wall of the elevator. The doors slammed shut and now I was trapped. I fought back, and just before I was about to let whoever it was have it they laughed at me. 

“How stupid are you? It’s me, Al,” Dave laughed, swatting my hands away. 

I blushed. “What was that for?” 

“I was going to kiss you, but you ruined the mood,” Dave said, looking me up and down in a disarming way. 

“What are you doing?” I asked, my cheeks getting redder. I knew very well he was checking me out, but I wanted to see whether he’d admit it or not. 

“You changed,” he said with an approving nod. 

“Glad to see you’re not blind,” I said, rolling my eyes. The doors opened, and he squeezed my hand before seeing Martin and Andy, together as always, and hastily pretending to bother me.

The four of us went to the studio, and I asked the others’ opinion on my idea for Something to Do. We adapted the sound slightly to fit the song’s mood better, and then finished It Doesn’t Matter and before I knew it we were done. 

“Well, shall we celebrate?” Gareth asked, and a cheer went up. 

“Don’t let Alan or Dave drink,” Fletch laughed, and Martin, Gareth, and Dan burst into laughter, and Dave and I pretended to be amused. 

We ended up at an Italian restaurant, and it was a good celebration. Overall, it was nice to have a stress-free night full of jokes and toasts. 

Finally, early in the morning, we went back to our hotel for the last time. Dave followed me to my room, and we sat down on my bed. 

“Dave. Mate. What are we going to do?” I asked, met with an urge to take him in my arms and never let him go. What about Jo? She was waiting for Dave, having visited only a week ago. She was a sweet girl who I didn’t want to hurt. What about the band? It would completely mess up everything if Martin and Fletch knew we were dating, and were we dating? I sprawled out on my bed for the second time that day and swore loudly. 

Dave lay next to me and kissed me all over my face. 

“I want you,” he said, playing with a stray strand of my hair. 

“I don’t know if I’m ready for—” I started, eyes panicked. 

He shoved me affectionately. “Pervert! I meant I want to date you.”

I snorted. “I’m not a pervert! That did not sound like you wanted me to date you, I can tell you now,” I said, but wasn’t really annoyed. 

“Whatever, Charlie. You knew what I meant. I’m serious,” he said, kissing my forehead. I felt like I was melting into him. 

“What about Jo?” I asked halfheartedly, and as thoughtless as it was I didn’t care what she thought. I wanted Dave for myself. 

“What about her? We had a talk before she left. She knew, Al, before I did. She was the one who told me that I loved you, that she couldn’t keep me from you. She wanted me to be happy, I know she loved me, and I feel bad for her but I do really want you.” Dave took my hand in his and kissed every finger. 

I smiled. “Really?” 

Dave nodded. “I didn’t tell you for obvious reasons.” 

“Well, you’re all mine then, aren’t you?” I asked playfully, ruffling his hair. 

“Mmm,” Dave mumbled positively as he buried his head in my chest and let me rub his back. 

“Can I wash your hair now?” he asked after some time. 

“Okay, but only my head. Not the rest of me,” I relented. 

He pouted, but dragged me to the bathroom enthusiastically and helped me position my head in the sink. 

He began to massage shampoo into my hair, telling me dirty jokes as he did. 

When he was done, I stood up and looked in the mirror. I nearly screamed at the sight of all of the foam in my hair; it looked like someone had emptied one of those foamy soap dispensers from a public bathroom in my hair. 

“Alan!” Dave reprimanded me. “Look, you’ve made a mess! Lie back down,” he told me, and then he rinsed my hair with warm water and I thought it felt like the best thing in the world. While the conditioner he’d just added soaked into my hair and supposedly healed it after all of the abuse it endured from the hair gel, he mopped up the shampoo, stopping every twenty seconds to kiss me. 

Then the conditioner was rinsed, and Dave grinned evilly and turned on a hair dryer and blasted me in the face with hot air. 

“Dave! What do you think you’re doing?” I asked indignantly, although the effect was somewhat ruined by the huge grin on my face. 

“Sorry, I missed,” he said with the innocence of an angel. 

He dried the rest of my hair and then took my hand and placed it in my hair, which felt surprisingly soft and silky. It smelled good, too, which I could tell by the strength of the smell and the fact that Dave’s face was buried in it. 

I heard a knock on the door and panicked. “Oh shit...Dave, quick, hide in the tub!” He did, and I pulled the curtain shut. 

It was Martin, of all people. He smiled knowingly. “Hello, Alan.”

“Oh, hi, Mart. Little late?” I asked, yawning. 

“You’re up, aren’t you? I just wanted it to know whether it worked out with Dave.” 

“Oh, Martin, you’re not going on about that? I was drunk, of course I don’t love Dave! He’s my best mate!” 

“You don’t?” Martin went into my bathroom and opened the shower curtain to reveal a very embarrassed Dave. 

Neither Dave or I knew what to say, so we just stood there like dogs caught ripping up furniture. 

“It’s alright, you two, I won’t tell anyone.” 

“Promise? Not even Fletch?” Dave asked. Martin nodded. 

“I promise, Dave. I wouldn’t do that.” 

“Good. So, then, if you want the truth then yes, I’m in love with Dave, and yes, things worked out.” 

“Alright, I’m happy for you. I’m sure I don’t want to see whatever’s about to happen, so good night and if you need any—” he started, and before he could finish Dave escorted him outside and shut the door.

He collapsed next to me and burst into a fit of laughter. 

I shook my head and stripped to my underwear, then got under the covers and turned out the lights. 

“I fancy getting at least an hour of sleep before I have to fly back to England. I will cuddle you to sleep, but you’re evicted if you laugh like that all night. It’ll shake the bed,” I said, managing a straight face until Dave laughed even more. 

“Oh, calm down,” he said, taking off his own pants and shirt and throwing them haphazardly across the room to annoy me then getting in next to me and snuggling his face in my neck. Every time he blinked, I could feel his eyelashes against my neck, and it was the best sensation I had ever experienced. 

We ended up barely sleeping, having so much to talk about and so much desire to kiss each other that we didn’t bother to sleep properly. I knew I would regret it in any other circumstance, but the smile on Dave told me it was different this time. 

I realized that I would do anything for Dave, and the thought both scared me and reassured me because I knew he would do the same for me. 

He could sense what I was thinking, apparently, because he shifted so that he was closer and warmer against me. It felt comforting and nice to have Dave next to me; it felt safe. It was something I hadn’t felt in a long time. 

Dave pressed a kiss on both of my eyelids. “Ssh, Al, you should go to sleep now,” he whispered, and I did. 


	4. Dave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alan makes a decision that saddens Dave.

_ Who am I to say to you _ __   
_ That we will stay together _ __   
_ Who am I to say to you _ _   
_ __ That we won't last forever

— “I Feel No Guilt” unreleased demo by Alan Wilder

I felt lonely when I woke up that morning to the alarm clock without Alan next to me. I knew it was dangerous to become so attached to someone it really wasn’t plausible to be with, but I couldn’t imagine not having Alan. 

He had left a note for me on the bedside table, which was quite sweet for his standards. It thanked me for washing his hair, and told me he went back to his room so he could pack his things and I was welcome to come see him but I had to promise that I would pack my things too. Surprisingly, it was signed with several of X’s, which I was pretty sure meant kisses. It wasn’t like him to be so loving and that sweet; he was more of the type to let you guess what he felt. 

I packed as Alan had instructed me, knowing that often I’d leave it to the last minute and make us late, and then I went to his room as I’d now become accustomed to doing. 

He was sitting on his bed, and he smiled when he saw me. 

I sat next to him and kissed him, and then I teased him about the X’s he’d signed his name with at the end of the note. 

“I thought you’d appreciate my attempts at affection,” he said, rolling his eyes, but ruining the effect by the wide grin on his face. 

“Do you like it when I hold you?” I asked, sort of out of the blue. He wasn’t one to appear vulnerable, or to need to be held, but there were many sides to Alan and I was curious.

He thought about it for a minute. “Yes. I feel loved.’ 

I promptly put my arms around him. “We’re going to have the best time together when we get back to England,” I said, kissing his cheek. 

Alan bit his lip for several seconds, and whatever he was thinking about must not have been good because he was biting so hard that he drew blood. “Please don’t be mad at me, Dave,” he said quietly. 

“What? Is there something you’re not telling me?” I panicked immediately. 

“I’m not going to be with you for a short time when we get back. I need time by myself to think things over. To decide how I’m going to deal with this.” 

“W-What? You don’t want to see me?” 

“I do. Dave, you know it’s not going to be easy to be together, don’t you?” 

“I know. But I thought you wanted to be with me,” I said, very upset. I wanted to be with Alan, and I thought he felt the same way.

He immediately pulled me onto his lap and kissed me. “I do. I love you, and I think you know that. I need to think things over. I promise I’m not leaving you.” 

I pulled myself away from him and curled up into one of the pillows. 

“Dave. I’m sorry. I promise you, I love you.” 

I couldn’t say anything, even when I heard Alan sigh sadly. 

“I’m really sorry. I feel like the worst boyfriend in the world. I’m really sorry, Dave, please, please don’t be mad at me,” he pleaded. 

“You’re the best boyfriend anyone could wish for, Al,” I finally said. “I’m going to miss you, that’s all, and I didn’t want to cry in front of you.” 

Alan laid down on top of me and kissed me, and I knew I was going to miss him for however long he needed to think about things. 

I checked the clock eventually, and we got our suitcases. Just before we went out the door, I looked closely at Alan for a minute and there was a lot of blood on his lip. I silently pointed at the bathroom, and he jumped when he saw himself. 

“Maybe you shouldn’t bite your lips so much, Charlie,” I said affectionately, and he laughed and agreed with me. 

I waited for him to clean himself up, and then we left the hotel together. 

We didn’t sit together on the plane, planning to say our final goodbye somewhere quiet in the airport. We found a waiting area that had just been emptied, and we curled up together in one of the corners there so that no one could see us, which was where we had our last proper kiss for who knew how long.

“I love you, Alan,” I whispered after he had pulled away, stroking my hair, and he took my hands in his own. 

“I love you too, Dave, and I promise you’ll see me again very soon. Goodbye,” he said, and then he stood up and walked away, and I expected that he wouldn’t look back. 

But he did, and he winked at me before disappearing into the crowd of people in the airport. 

I stayed in the waiting area for who knows how long, sobbing my eyes out. I knew he loved me, but part of me was convinced that that was the last I’d see of Alan Wilder. I knew I was being ridiculous, that I would see him for sure on tour at the very least, but I was still very upset and missed him. 

I must have fallen asleep at some point, because I woke up to a security guard shaking my shoulders. 

“Sir. Sir? Are you all right?” he asked, helping me up. 

I nodded, got my things and headed off to my house, trying not to think about Alan. 

The evening went on forever, and I missed Alan so much; I missed the way he looked at me, I missed his smile, I missed his arm around my shoulders, I missed his sass, I missed everything about him. 

I couldn’t sleep that night, and I got no sleep for several days until I got used to not being with Alan. It was weird because we’d only been together, if you could even call it that, for two days yet I had become so used and attached to him. 

A week went by without any contact from him, and slowly I started losing hope. 

It was another week before I heard from Alan, and it was a short letter saying that he was fine and that he hadn’t forgotten about me. 

It was nearly time to go on tour when I knew he wasn’t going to be with me. Ever. It had been a good two days, but I knew I had to get over him, although it was a nearly impossible task, especially since he was my band mate. 

I had finished packing and was trying very hard not to think about Alan when I heard a knock on my door, and I was nearly afraid to answer it, but I was brave enough to do so...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to thank everyone for their support, I never thought anyone would ever read this! Merry Christmas if you celebrate it, Happy Holidays if you don’t :)


	5. Alan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alan decides to be with Dave despite the problems coming with that decision, and Dave is ecstatic. Alan is scared to become closer to Dave than anyone else he’d ever loved, but Dave helps him get over his fears.

I turned around and winked at Dave before leaving the airport. He was still curled up in the waiting area, and I was shocked to see him looking devastated, crying a little bit, and he looked so alone. I felt horrible, but I couldn’t just jump into a relationship with my band mate and best friend without thinking about it, could I? I knew Dave would but it could go terribly wrong and what if everything fell apart, the band broke up, and we lost our friendship? I couldn’t risk everything for one relationship. 

I called Martin a few days after returning, and he told me that if I loved Dave, I shouldn’t keep myself away from him. He said that he wouldn’t tell anyone unless I asked him to. 

I put the phone down, sprawled on one of the armchairs in my living room, and thought of Dave. Was it a good idea to give myself over to someone like Dave? We worked together. We were best friends. We had so much to lose. 

I had nearly made up my mind to end whatever that was when I realized that it was Dave. It was different because it was Dave that this was about. 

I knew that whatever this was, I would allow it to happen, and I felt relieved. 

I realized that Dave probably hadn’t made his decision yet, so I sent a short letter to tell him that I was fine and hadn’t forgotten about him. 

And then for just over a week I waited, and when I got no response from him I visited his house, hoping he was all right. 

It was about a minute after my knock that Dave answered, his face sad but hopeful until he saw my face. 

He looked terrible, I noticed as I reached forward to hug him. His hair was a mess, he looked exhausted, and his clothes were rumpled. He let me inside, and his house was a mess. 

He couldn’t stop kissing me for several minutes; pulling me with him onto the couch, he cradled my face in his hands and finally said hello. 

I laughed. “Someone missed me, huh?” 

He nodded enthusiastically. “I thought you weren’t coming back.” 

“Didn’t you get my letter?” I asked. 

Dave pointed to the kitchen table, where it had been carefully laid down. “Yeah, but I didn’t believe you.” 

“I can kind of see why. I’m sorry, Dave,” I said, and he smiled and snuggled into me more. 

“S’fine. Made up your mind yet, Charlie?” 

“No, course not. What do you think? I don’t love you but I’m snuggling you on your couch and kissing you?” 

“Dunno. I missed you,” he said in a matter-of-fact way. 

I bit my lip. “I missed you too,” I said quietly, still afraid to let Dave so close to me. I am a private person, and Dave is one of the few people that sees everything about me, my insecurities, emotions, everything. 

Dave seemed to sense what I was thinking (which was unusual; most people, even my previous girlfriends, had never known what I was thinking and I had never bothered to share it with them), and he ran his fingers through my hair and smiled at me. “Relax, Al,” he whispered, and I tried to, knowing he loved me. 

He waited for a minute, holding my hand, and then he put an arm around my shoulders. “Alan, what’s wrong? I know there’s something. You can tell me,” he encouraged, looking at me with so much love and affection that I felt bad for having any doubt about sharing myself with him. 

“I love you but…..I was just scared to let you be closer to me than anyone else. To share my thoughts and emotions and...everything with you.” 

Dave nodded, pulling me a little closer. “I love you too, Al, and I feel really flattered that you’d even consider sharing yourself with me.” 

I smiled, and Dave did too. 

“I love when you smile,” he said. “You have the most beautiful smile.” 

I smirked this time, and making sure to touch Dave’s ear with my lips so that he’d shiver, I whispered, “Do I?” 

He did shiver, and then took my hand and pulled me up.

I followed him to his bedroom, and he laid me down on the bed and took off my shirt. 

He laid his head on my chest, listening to my heartbeat, and I smiled to myself and played with his hair. 

I felt so safe and vulnerable at the same time, and it felt like the best thing in the world. I had never felt anything like this before, not for anyone, and I wondered if maybe Dave was the only person I’d ever loved. If I hadn’t actually loved the girls I’d been with. 

Then Dave kissed my chest and asked me if he could undress me the rest of the way, and I nodded tentatively. He left a trail of kisses across my skin as he pulled my clothes off, and then he kissed me on my lips and let my tongue play with his for several minutes before he laid down next to me and waited for me to do the same. Once I had, he lay down next to me and simply placed his hand on my chest, and it was enough to make me feel dizzy with love for him. I knew I was fucked, but at least it was worth it. 

“Charlie, can you please touch me?” Dave asked, half-asleep. 

“O-Okay, where?” 

“I don’t care,” Dave said, reaching blindly until he found me, then he ruffled my hair.

I settled for his shoulders, then I moved steadily downward until I found his feet and massaged them, knowing how much he liked that. 

He made an appreciative noise, half-asleep, and before I knew what was happening he was stroking me. 

I swatted his hand away and hid myself completely under the covers so Dave couldn’t see my embarrassed face. 

Dave poked his head under after a second. “Sorry, Al, I thought you wanted that.” 

“S’fine,” I mumbled, hugging him. “Just nervous is all. I’m really tired, Dave, what if we do that another night?” 

“Don’t have to,” Dave reassured me, and I smiled at how sweet he was. 

The truth was, I was terrified about our first time. I had never done anything with a man, Dave was the first one I’d ever even kissed, and I was scared that I wouldn’t be good enough. 

For the second time that day, Dave sensed what I was thinking and comforted me. 

“You’ll be fine, Al,” he told me, smiling and caressing me. It worked, and I felt better but was still a little scared. 

I half-realized that I forgot to pack for the tour and was going to have to do it early tomorrow morning before falling asleep, my cheek smushed against Dave’s shoulder, the most content I’d been in my entire life. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, I just wanted to thank everyone who commented (once again!!) for all of their support and kind words. It means a lot to me and I’m over the moon that people like my story! AO3 is going to be down in an hour, so see you in three hours I guess. If you want to read a story while it’s down, just click the button for the entire work and keep the tab open. It will stay open while AO3 is down, although you can’t click on anything. I’ll be doing that definitely, probably reading one of my favorite Dalan fanfictions. See you all in three hours! :)


	6. Dave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A long chapter full of fluff and Alan being Alan and Dave being Dave. Andy finds out that the two of them made out. Dave is jealous of Martin’s recording session for Somebody with Alan and Alan makes it up to him.

HI woke up before Alan, and I lay there for a while looking at him. He looked beautiful, completely relaxed, his face still resting on me although it had moved to the middle of my chest. His hair was messy, and some of it tickled my shoulder. He was still naked, and it was admittedly a little odd for me to see him so unguarded.

He opened his eyes slowly, and I had expected him to immediately put his guard up again—put a neutral expression on his face, smooth his hair, move away from me a little bit so that he didn’t appear dependent, cross his legs so that he wouldn’t seem vulnerable, but he stayed exactly like he was. He smiled happily, kissing my chest, and I felt warm inside. I wondered if anyone else had ever seen him like this, and I suddenly felt a surge of protectiveness, I wanted him to be mine and only mine. 

“Charlie?” I asked. 

“Yeah?” 

“I love you. I really do.” 

He pulled me on top of him and kissed me, stopping reluctantly to catch his breath after a minute or so. “I know you do.” 

Alan bit his lip for a minute before asking me, “Is it weird to see me with my guard down?

“I don’t know. I’m not used to it. But it makes me feel loved, like you trust me. Is it weird for you to have it down?” 

“At first it was but...not to sound cheesy, but it’s you, Dave. You’re the man I love.” He kind of laughed under his breath. “I don’t know. I really don’t know how to say what I mean sometimes.” 

“I’m flattered,” I whispered, and he laughed again and let his hands run over my back.

I kissed his cheek and rolled off of him, and he looked a little scared and asked if he’d done something wrong. 

“No, I just want to see you,” I answered, and he tensed a little bit but didn’t protest, and he was biting his lip again but told me I could do whatever I wanted. 

I looked at him for the first time, and my hands followed my eyes and my lips followed my hands and immediately he relaxed again, encouraging me to kiss him. 

I worked my way to his face, and he kissed me for several minutes before letting go of me and stretching leisurely. 

“You’re beautiful,” I said quietly, then ran off after throwing a bathrobe on to find something for Alan to wear, extremely embarrassed.

I was in the laundry room, searching through a pile of clothes, when I heard a low chuckle behind me. 

Alan was wrapped in a sheet, smirking, and I immediately stood up to kiss him. 

“Someone’s flustered, hmm?” he asked before I could stop him. 

“Shut up,” I said half-heartedly, giggling even though I was trying to seem annoyed. 

He sat down next to me and held up different articles of clothing, pretending to scrunch his face up in disgust until he laughed and told me I had a good sense of fashion. 

I smiled proudly and handed him a green shirt, knowing green looked good on him, and leather trousers.

Alan nodded in approval and got ready in the downstairs bathroom while I made coffee and breakfast for the two of us. It felt so nice to have Alan with me; it felt amazing to have him laugh at something I said or hug me or smile at me or even just touch my hand. 

I was wiping down the counter after having spilled a little bit of coffee when I felt lips brush against my neck, making me drop the cloth and startle. 

I turned around to see Alan, standing in front of me. The shirt was a little bit small on him, since his shoulders were wider than mine, but the trousers fit and he looked amazing. His hair was still messy, but he had done it in a way that it looked incredibly attractive, and he had eyeliner on as he had since I told him he looked good with it on. 

He looked absolutely incredible, and I couldn’t do anything but stare in shock for several seconds. 

As always, he smirked, knowing exactly what he was doing to me, and he leaned forward and said good morning. 

“Not too late for that at all. You’ve been up with me for maybe an hour even,” I managed to say. 

He laughed. “You know very well I just wanted an excuse to be close to you for a second and attract you even more.” 

Alan was right, of course. I hadn’t been able to think of anything else to say, though, and I was quite pleased with myself for being able to say anything. 

“Is there any chance of me getting a cup of coffee and something to eat?” he asked, eyeing the cups on the counter behind me. 

“Maybe if you kiss me,” I said, and he laughed. 

“Tease,” he said jokingly, but obliged. I could feel the rush of adrenaline-like euphoria as his tongue made its way into my mouth and his arms pulled me to him. 

“I love you so much,” he mumbled between kisses, and I felt like the luckiest man in the world to have someone like him. 

Alan kept deepening the kiss, and before I knew it he had me pinned down on the couch, angling his head as he kissed my neck so that his eyelashes were tickling my skin. 

“Mmmm...Charlie..what about breakfast? You must be starved,” I managed to get out. 

“Fuck that,” he said, running his hands through my hair. 

Alan continually changed paces, going from gently caressing my face to roughly kissing me to holding me tightly to biting at my skin and back again, and before I knew it it was nearly noon and I was pretty sure that had been the best morning of my life.

We heard loud knocks at the door, and we jumped up and answered it at the same time. 

Just our luck, it was Fletch, who didn’t know we were together. I wasn’t particularly eager to tell anybody else, and I knew without asking that Alan was even less so. 

“Dave, have you packed? We’re leaving tomorrow morning,” he reminded me, coming inside to sit down for a while as he often did. 

He noticed Alan suddenly and nearly fell over in surprise. “Holy—what happened to the two of you? You’re covered in bruises and your hair is all messed up. You look like you got in a fight or—oh, oh, no, that can’t be—”  Andy stammered, staring at the two of us. 

“Thank you,” Alan commented, trying to annoy him and distract him from what he thought might have happened. 

“Alan, you didn’t fight Dave, did you?” 

We looked at each other in sheer panic and made up different excuses at the same time. 

“No. It can’t be!” Andy said, looking like he was about to faint. 

“What can’t be?” Alan demanded, looking incredibly annoyed and embarrassed. 

“You didn’t…make out, did you?” 

“No—get out—shit, we didn’t do anything, can you just leave!” Alan was panicking, and I was absolutely speechless. 

“Dave, what happened?” Fletch asked me now, and I bit my lip, and Alan noticed from across the room and laughed silently. I guess he’d been rubbing off on me. 

“Fine. We made out. Happy?” I asked, blushing wildly. 

“You. Did. What?!” 

“You were the one who just assumed that, genius,” Alan snapped irritably. 

“I didn’t think you actually—”

“Look, can you just leave? You’re right, Dave needs to pack.” Alan tried to direct him towards the door; obviously he didn’t feel like that conversation. 

“How did you get here, by the way?” Andy asked, and I would be confused too if I was in Andy’s place but Alan was completely frustrated and nearly shoved him out the door. 

Once Fletch was gone, looking dazed, Alan leaned against the door and let out a string of curses. 

“That was fucking embarrassing! Why did you tell him that?” 

“I’m not going to lie to my friend and bandmate,” I told him, lying down on the couch again and crossing my arms. 

“You could’ve asked me. Dave, you know I don’t like sharing my personal life, especially when it’s as ridiculous as this?” 

I was immediately hurt. Did he think this was all just ridiculous? “Ridiculous?” I asked. “Ridiculous?! I thought you loved me, and you would do anything to be with me. That’s what you had me believe at least,” I snapped. 

“It’s not ridiculous, okay? Yes, I love you, and you should know that by now. It’s ridiculous that I got into this situation, it’s ridiculous that he knows, and everything’s ridiculous except for you. Okay? Happy?” Alan asked. 

I turned over, trying to hide the fact that I was crying a little bit.

He sighed. “C’mon, Dave, let’s not do this.” He sat down next to me and kissed me all over the back of my neck and shoulders. “You want to tell me why you’re upset?” 

“Because Martin got to record Somebody with you,” I said, rolling back over and pouting to get the full effect. 

“So? Martin’s recorded a million songs and you’ve been fine with it.” 

“But he got to strip in front of your piano,” I said, and it sounded stupid and unrelated now but I was actually jealous. 

“Is that why you’re upset? If you want to strip in front of my piano you can bloody well do so. You’re not embarrassed, though?” 

I shook my head. “I don’t care. Less secrets. Can I really?” 

A smirk slowly crept onto his face. “You’re encouraged to, in fact. Come here,” and he took me in his arms and let me stay there for quite a while. 

I must have fallen asleep, because I woke up later and Alan had packed for me. 

“What? How did you find everything?” I asked, rubbing my eyes. It looked like mid-afternoon. 

“Because it was all in a huge pile in the middle of the basement,” Alan commented, kissing me on the forehead. 

I rolled my eyes and hugged him. “Thank you, Charlie.” 

“You’re very welcome,” he said, setting my suitcase down by the front door. 

“I still haven’t eaten anything,” I realized. “I’m not exactly hungry, though.”

“Too bad. I don’t want to cook, so you can make lunch.” 

“Hey! I let you stay over, the least you could do is cook!” 

“Love you too!” He pulled me off of the couch and took my place, smiling sweetly.

I sighed and got up, and while I was standing at the stove I felt a pair of now-familiar arms around my waist and a now-familiar chin against my shoulder. 

“Hello Dave,” Alan said, kissing my neck. 

I felt a warmth creep over me, and I stood there for several seconds, enjoying the fact that I had someone like Alan to love me and tease me and kiss me and be there for me. 

He stayed there the entire time I was cooking, and it was the best time I’d ever had in the kitchen. He didn’t say anything, didn’t need to; it was his presence that was so familiar and wonderful to me. 

After we’d eaten, Alan placed a hand on my shoulder and asked me if I still wanted to strip in front of his piano. 

“Only if you play for me,” I said, blushing a little. 

He laughed. “Of course I will. What do you want me to play?” he asked as we got in my car to drive to his house.

“It Doesn’t Matter,” I whispered. 

He reached across and squeezed my hand. “Alright. Before you sing it, I assure you we’re staying together.” 

“I know. It just seems appropriate and a nice love song,” I said, and Alan nodded in agreement. 

When we got there, he immediately sat down at the piano, looking at it lovingly, and I stood next to him with one hand on his shoulder. 

I sang the song with all my heart, not energy, and I was swaying back and forth and then I slowly stripped until I was standing there in front of Alan, feeling ever so vulnerable and scared. I wondered if this was how Alan always felt when he let his guard down. But I knew that there was no one I would rather be with when I felt like that. He looked at me, his long, beautiful fingers still dancing across the keys, and I realized the millionth time over how much I loved him. 

I finished the song and when I was done he smiled and told me gently that I did it better than Martin, that there was an insane amount of feeling in my voice. And then we kissed, and I lost myself in his soft lips as always. 

…

Hours later lying on the floor in Alan’s arms, I thought that it was the best question that I had ever asked, asking to strip in front of Alan’s piano. We had shared an extremely intimate moment after he had finished playing, sitting next to each other on the piano bench and looking into each other’s eyes—I thought that I could look into Alan’s mesmerizing blue eyes forever— like in some sort of movie, and then he had eventually laid me down on the floor with the utmost care and taken me slowly at first then faster and faster until he was pounding into me and we were screaming at the surprise and joy and pleasure of it all, and then we had both come and just held each other, occasionally kissing each other gently. It was fair to say that that had been the best afternoon I’d ever had.

I could feel myself drifting off, and the last thing I saw before slipping into blissful unconsciousness was Alan’s loving smile. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again thank you for all of your support ❤️  
> If it’s too fluffy or sweet I don’t care, I wrote this at three in the morning because the rain was incredibly loud and I couldn’t sleep and wanted to publish something so this is what you get, sorry XD! :)


	7. Andy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Andy finds out what’s between Dave and Alan.

“Well, go to Dave’s house then and tell them they’ll be late,” Martin told me over the phone. It was five hours until we had to be at the airport, and there was no sign of Dave or Alan, although we had called both of their houses plenty of times. 

“Why don’t you do it?” 

“Because I don’t have a car. Go on, Andy, please? We can’t be late for the first show,” Martin encouraged me. 

“Fine, but you better have coffee for me when I get back, it’s three in the damn morning and I’ve not had any coffee or anything yet.”

“All right, good luck then,” and he hung up.

I wasn’t exactly pleased with the fact that I had to deal with Dave and Alan. Dave would be easy and genial enough, but Alan was a completely different story. He could be nice enough when he wanted to, but usually he didn’t and he was extremely grumpy and sarcastic in the mornings. 

“You better get a car soon, Mart,” I muttered to myself and started the engine.

I got to Dave’s house and there were two notes on the door:

One said “Fletch: Fuck off. With love from Alan.” (I couldn’t help but snort; as obnoxious as it was, like a lot of things Alan said it was funny.)

Another said “Mart: If you absolutely must come see us we’re at my house, but it better be important. —Al”

I rolled my eyes and didn’t follow Alan’s instructions, instead trying to remember Alan’s house address and messing about in the glove box to look for a piece of paper that would help me. 

I finally found a Post-it note with his address, and luckily it wasn’t too far away from Dave’s. 

When I got there there was no sign that anyone was home, but I tried the side door which, thank goodness, was unlocked. 

The house was completely quiet and all the lights were off, and it was quite eerie as I looked through the rooms for Alan or Dave. 

Oddly enough, there was nobody in Alan’s or the guest bedroom, and I wondered if they’d attempted and failed to stay up for a movie, so I checked the basement to no avail. 

The only place I hadn’t yet checked was the music room next to the studio where Alan kept his piano and synths and musical paraphernalia. I didn’t think it would make sense for them to be in there, but it was the last place so I opened the door with a touch of apprehensiveness.

I couldn’t move when I saw them. They weren’t behind an instrument, they weren’t sitting on the piano bench and talking, they weren’t making out like they presumably had yesterday (I still didn’t know what was up with that). Much worse: they were lying on the floor completely naked and blissfully passed out in each other’s arms, and clothes and something that looked sticky which I really didn’t want to identify was all over the floor around them and a little bit was on them. Their necks and shoulders were covered with red marks and their hair was mussed, and Dave was using Alan as a pillow where Alan used his arm as one.

I couldn’t move, letting out a scream. 

They both woke up at the same time, and Dave immediately sat on top of a furiously blushing Alan to cover him up, and he asked indignantly what I was doing, breaking into Alan’s house and spying on them. 

I tried to deny spying and tried to explain why I was here, but Alan cut me off.

I thought he was going to be nice and say don’t worry about it, but I should’ve known better; after all it was Alan Wilder, and he wasn’t the type to say something like that just after he’d woken up, although he might have been more accommodating later in the day. 

“Can’t you read? I left you a note that clearly said fuck off,” he said irritably, his voice hoarse from sleep. 

I had no idea what to do, and just stood there staring like an idiot, enough to make even Dave blush and put a shirt over his lap (who knew whose it was). 

“Feel like following it now?” Alan snapped, glaring at me. 

“What—what were you doing?” I finally asked, in complete shock. 

“Reading a book. Now go wait in the living room,” Dave said resignedly, putting a hand on Alan’s thigh to calm him down.

“All—all right then,” I managed to get out, then walked off in a stupor to find the living room again.

I couldn’t believe it. I didn’t want to, in fact, and all I could think about was why the music room of all places. 

Finally they emerged, fully clothed, Dave pulling an irritated and embarrassed Alan behind him. 

“You can’t tell anyone,” Alan told me with a glare. 

Dave pressed his lips to Alan’s ear and whispered something that seemed to work, and he stopped glaring at me although was still far from pleased. 

“Yeah, please don’t tell anyone, Fletch. We’ll tell Mart ourselves, okay?” Dave asked.

I nodded. “But you have to explain yourselves, please.” 

“Fine. Guess what? We’re dating. Guess what? We did indeed make out yesterday for several hours. Guess what? We did exactly what you hope we didn’t last night in the piano room,” Alan told me. 

“Tell me exactly what that was,” I requested, not as much because I was confused but mostly to annoy him. 

He smirked and did. 

“Not that many details,” I complained, to Dave’s great amusement.

“Why did you come in the first place anyway, Andy?” Dave asked. 

“Because you’re going to be late for the airport. We’re going on tour, remember?” 

Alan suddenly got up and ran upstairs at full speed, cursing at the top of his lungs. 

“Well, someone forgot to pack,” I observed. 

“Yeah, and he even packed for me. I don’t think it’ll take too long, though,” Dave predicted. 

I nodded, and we attempted to make small talk, overwhelmed by the awkwardness of it all, until we just burst out into laughter. 

“I hope you haven’t judged us,” he laughed. 

“Oh, a long time ago,” I commented, sending him into another fit of giggles. 

We could hear Alan running around upstairs, then he came down the stairs and lost hold of his suitcase. I didn’t think I’d ever seen him so stressed.

There was an enormous crash as he tripped over his suitcase, and everything fell out at once. I was afraid to laugh in case he got mad at me, but Dave was doubled over crying with laughter. 

He landed on his feet, luckily, and Dave went over to help him, kissing his cheek as he sat down and began to repack Alan’s suitcase. I noticed how he’d kissed Alan’s cheek as if it was the millionth time, like second nature to him but still a sweet gesture for the both of them.

Maybe Martin had been right this morning on the phone when we’d discussed the previous afternoon. Maybe they were really in love. At this point, nothing could surprise me anymore. 

Dave had brought his suitcase, and they put everything in the front seat and boot of my car and got in the backseat together, and as we set off to pick Martin up I noticed in the rear view mirror how Alan’s head was resting comfortably on Dave’s shoulder, wearing a very un-Alan-like smile. Sure, he smiled and he wasn’t always mean and sarcastic and could be surprisingly sweet when he could tell that people needed support and kindness and a shoulder to cry on, even to me, but this smile wasn’t anything like the ones I’d seen him wearing before. It was completely trusting, content, happy, and I knew that Dave had brought out a completely hidden side of Alan. 

We picked up Martin, and once we got to the airport and were waiting to board, Alan and Dave were holding hands, sitting as close as possible, and Martin and I were third wheeling for several minutes until Alan noticed and moved away from Dave, half-joking about how they’d get made fun of anyway. 

I realized that that was true, and I wondered if they would get it if they were like that in public. They might even get beaten up, and Dave could fight well but I wasn’t sure how well Alan could as he had never been in a fight, preferring to avoid violence. Also, what if a fan recognized them? That would be an absolute disaster and they would ruin their careers. 

Martin and Alan were in a usual quarrel involving football when Dave tapped my shoulder. 

“I know you were worried, Andy,” he whispered. “We’re careful to make sure nobody is watching. Most people don’t recognize us, as well, and we never do anything like kiss when people are around. Al here can hold his own in a fight, anyway, if it comes to it. We’ll be fine.” 

I nodded in relief, but was still slightly apprehensive. 

Once we got on the plane, Dave and Alan argued under their breaths for a few seconds until Dave shoved Alan in Martin’s direction, and he sat down next to him, blushing. 

Dave made himself comfortable in the seat next to me, grinning widely, and explained that he had made Alan tell Mart what was going on. 

I glanced over, and Mart was laughing in a way that didn’t make me doubt what Dave had said. Alan was trying to talk over his laughter, and we heard “and then Fletch found us on the ground, completely—” before he realized others could hear him and lowered his voice. 

Dave offered me a pack of crisps, which I accepted, and we watched as Alan got more and more embarrassed and Martin more and more amused until Alan got up, a black look on his face, and sat next to us. 

“Dave, you seriously owe me,” he said, and although his arms were crossed and he was glaring, I could see a hint of amusement in his eyes too. 

I laughed to myself and took Alan’s place next to Martin, who recounted what Alan had said, and it was indeed extremely funny although maybe not enough to warrant the fuss made over it. 

I glanced at Dave and Alan, who were showing no signs of affection (Dave had been right), but were talking much as they always had, that hint of annoyance they had always had before they were together showing up again, although I didn’t think it was real. Maybe it had never been real, who knew? Nothing could surprise me at this point, honestly. 

Maybe it was for the worst, maybe for the best. At least they were happy, I thought as I watched Alan unable to hold back a wide smile, and I knew Dave was probably smiling too although his back was turned towards me so I couldn’t know for sure. 

Martin nudged my shoulder. “What’re you thinking, Fletch?”

“They’re happy, aren’t they?” I asked, playing with the seatbelt. 

“Yeah. Guess that’s all that matters,” he said, looking off into the distance. 

“Yeah, I guess. I don’t know, really, but as long as nobody else knows.”

“Worried?” Mart asked, his face frustratingly unreadable. 

“Dunno, kind of. They can take care of themselves. What do ya think of it?”

“No idea. I guess it gives us something to tease ‘em about.”

“Mmm. I’m gonna sleep now, fancy switching so you can get up without waking me up?

“Ah, fine. You just want the window seat,” he teased me with a grin, and we switched seats. 

Just before I drifted off, I saw Dave closing his eyes as well, and subtly enough that you wouldn’t have noticed unless you knew, Alan slipped his hand into Dave’s and leaned back contentedly. 

“Night,” Martin said absentmindedly, watching them with a half-smile on his face. 

“Night,” I said back, and I fell asleep with thoughts of the smile Alan had had when we were driving to the airport. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took me so long to write, quite a lot’s been going on and I’ve been too busy to write a lot of the time :) Happy New Year’s! x


	8. Alan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alan continues to fall head over heels in love with Dave, and the feeling is nerve-wracking for him. In the meantime, he becomes exhausted by the tour.

Dave shook me awake, saying something about I wouldn’t want to be asleep while we were descending because of the pressure.

It took me several minutes to properly wake up again, and I remembered that we were about to land and tonight was the first concert.

We landed and rushed to check in and make calls and confirmations and all of the usual boring things that had to be done, and while we were setting up the stage Dave and I were alone for several minutes as I was making sure the keyboards had all the right samples loaded. He immediately hugged me from behind, whispering something sweet, and I wondered if this would last. It was too good to be true, wasn’t it?

“You okay, Charlie?” Dave asked, rubbing my arm in soothing circular motions.

“I don’t know. I’m tired,” I said quietly, leaning into him more.

“You’ll do fine. Is the keyboard working?”

I pressed several keys and nodded, and he led me to who knows where inside the building although who cared where it was—it had a couch, and he laid me down and, sitting by my head, stroked my hair until I fell asleep.

I woke up much later, a lot happier and more rested, and I could hear the sound check faintly; it sounded like Dave was starting to sing Master and Servant but burst out into laughter every time he did, and I heard him shout into the microphone that he was going to go check on me. In response the girl who did the lights yelled jokingly that she didn’t care where he was and hoped he’d get lost in the hallways, earning loud laughter. Most of it was coming from Dave, and I could hear joking shouts of agreement before Dave’s boots echoed on the hard floor and I quickly pretended to be asleep.

He sat next to my head again and began caressing my face until I opened my eyes and, putting an arm around his waist, pulled him closer to me and closed my eyes again. I felt him lie next to me and he slipped his shoulder under my head so I had something to use as a pillow, and we lay there like that for a while, not long enough, before Daryl came down the hallways looking for us.

We sat up in a hurry and finished getting ready for the show, and before it really sunk in, we were onstage and playing for a fairly substantial crowd.

After we finished and started taking everything down, I thought it was quite a good show, Dave was really energetic and it was infectious; the crowd was having a great time by the looks of it and so was I. By the time we got everything packed up and left for whatever hotel we were staying in this time, I was feeling optimistic about the tour. The Construction Time Again one had been very tiring, and I had still been getting used to being an official member of the band and it was all fairly overwhelming.

Having Dave probably made a difference, too. He was so sweet and loving and optimistic and funny and I couldn’t have asked for anyone better, and he was smiling away looking like a sweaty, beaming angel as we said our goodbyes to Martin and Andy as they disappeared into their respective rooms.

There had only been three rooms booked, and I wondered if that was accidental or if it was Fletch’s doing. I suspected that it was the latter, as he had been the one to book the hotel rooms and seemed to understand us.

Dave fumbled with the key for a minute before opening the door for me, and although it was just a generic hotel room with two beds, a bathroom, a dresser, and a beat-up television it looked like absolute heaven after the long day I’d had.

I set my suitcase down on the floor, wriggled out of my clothes, and lay down on one of the beds with a sigh of pleasure.

“I am so tired,” I said, pulling the covers up to my chin. “Dave, d’you want to sleep in the other bed or with—” before I could finish talking he got in next to me and hugged me so tightly I could barely breathe.

“That answers that,” I said with a short laugh and kissed his forehead. I wouldn’t admit it, but I was relieved that he wanted to sleep next to me. His presence was warm and comforting; even having him in the room made me so happy and content it was nearly scary.

He rolled on top of me and studied my face, his fingers rubbing my shoulders. “You’re beautiful, you know that Charlie?” His voice was rough and raw, and I put a finger on his lips.

“You’re sweet. Don’t talk, though, your voice needs a rest. Okay?”

Dave pouted, but by the way his eyelids were drooping I doubted he had much else to say.

“S’not what I asked,” he whispered, poking me playfully.

“Yeah, of course I know I’m a model,” I joked, twirling my hair with a finger and pretending to look snobby.

He laughed and started to say something else, but I stopped him again.

“Stop it, Dave, don’t make me shut your mouth for you,” I said playfully, and he grinned back.

“Would you really?” he asked.

“Tease,” I laughed. “I’m tired now, though.”

Dave kissed me goodnight and pressed his warm, still slightly sweaty body against mine. I didn’t even mind the sweat, as weird as it was for me I would do nearly anything to be next to Dave. It frightened me, loving someone so much. I bit my lip, getting apprehensive as I always did when I thought about this. Wasn’t it dangerous to rely so much on another person?

Dave sensed something was off and shifted so that my head was on his chest. I could hear his heartbeat, and it soothed me.

“I love you,” I mumbled.

He must have already been asleep, because he didn’t respond, but I could’ve sworn that his heart beat a little faster and his hand squeezed my shoulder a little tighter.

-

At first it was quite fun to tour. I enjoyed the concerts; it was really something after we’d finished the last song to look at thousands of people cheering for us. After the first couple of weeks the excitement of a new tour had worn off and it was more of a kind of interesting task you were forced to do. I got more and more tired as the months wore on, and I was counting down the days until we took a break. I knew we would be in the studio to release a sort of compilation album with a couple of new songs, but anything other than the tour seemed like it would be heaven.

It helped so much to have Dave with me; every night the moment when I would always be happy was when he would pull me into his arms and smile at me with that sweet, loving smile of his. Sometimes, depending on how tired we were, we would go straight to sleep and other times we would stay up talking and joking around and there would be sex fairly often, as well. I had let Dave be on top more often and I liked it much more than I would admit to anyone but Dave, although it was embarrassing even to tell him. He would laugh and kiss me on the forehead, and cheesy as it was I would do almost anything to make him smile and kiss me.

Dave’s presence helped immensely, but I still wanted to go home, even if it was just for a break. I was so tired and bored and all I wanted was rest.

Sometimes Martin and I would sit backstage while the sound and lighting crews were sorting things out and discuss the new songs for the compilation album, which had been agreed on by the four of us to be named “Catching Up With Depeche Mode”. He had two in mind: one was called It’s Called a Heart and the other was called Shake the Disease. We had gone over sound and lyrics and although I hadn’t admitted it to Martin, I was thoroughly not a fan of It’s Called a Heart. It sounded too mainstream poppy, not different enough. I didn’t like the idea of the guitar in the background—that sounded like something Duran Duran would do. As a pop group that appealed to young kids who wanted something to dance to they weren’t as bad as Andy proclaimed them to be, but their sound was not something I wanted to borrow from. Shake the Disease was a very different story, though—I saw great potential for it and was fairly sure it would make a more than solid single.

I knew I was lucky to be able to go on tour at all, but it just dragged on and on and it was so tiring. It was the last week of the tour, and I didn’t know how I was going to be able to last through the last few concerts.

I barely made it through the concert that night, and my singing must’ve been rubbish. It was good that I didn’t have many singing parts, at least. My playing was all right, but only because I didn’t have to think about it at all.

The moment we were finished, I waved to the crowd for a few seconds, doing my best to seem okay, and then left without trying to find Dave. He probably wanted to go to a club or something, and I really didn’t want to have to make an excuse for not going.

I stormed off to whatever hotel we were staying at this time. I couldn’t be bothered to try to remember the name; the only way I found it was because it wasn’t far from the concert hall.

I went straight to bed, never mind that it was hours earlier than I normally got to bed, and pulled the covers over my head.

I couldn’t stand the thought of seeing Dave, but not seeing Dave would be a million times worse. 

I really wanted to be done with touring, with everything; I was so stressed and tired and I didn’t think I would make it for the last few days, and traveling back seemed unbearable.

At this point, I was beyond everything, and suddenly I was crying into my pillow. I almost never cried, so when I did it was out of control and this time I had no one to comfort me. I wondered for a moment where Dave was, but couldn’t stand to think of what he might be doing at the club.

I had soaked the pillow with tears, and I wanted to just give up.

I heard someone talking loudly in the hallway, and then the door clicked open.

“Al? Why did you—what happened? Are you all right? Charlie?” Dave asked, running over to me with a concerned look.

I realized he had never seen me cry, although I had seen him cry a couple of times. Not many people had seen me like this, but I found that I didn’t mind having Dave with me.

He sat on the edge of the bed and wiped my tears away with his sleeve, and then pulled my head forward a little bit so that my face was buried in his neck.

I felt him taking off his shoes with one hand while the other stroked my hair, and then he lay down completely and pulled me on top of him.

I could feel something tickling my forehead, and I opened my eyes to find the first hint of a beard on Dave’s chin.

“You didn’t shave,” I said quietly, pulling my hand from his to feel the stubble.

“Yeah, I might grow a little beard,” he said, laughing slightly at the look on my face when he said that. “What, don’t you approve of the idea?”

“I don’t know,” I said thoughtfully, pressing my cheek against his. “Maybe I do.”

Dave laughed and gently placed my head back on his chest. “What were you upset about, Charlie?”

“We’ve been touring too long. I’m so tired and done and I want to just give up,” I sighed, reaching for his hand.

“Give up on what?”

“Everything, I guess. I don’t know, I’ll be all right after a good night’s sleep.”

“Aw, love, c’mere,” he said, helping me out of my jacket.

I jumped slightly when he called me ‘love’, and he noticed with a smile.

“Too cool to be called love?” he teased.

“No, I just didn’t think you would call me that. I didn’t think about that really at all, to be honest.”

“You forgot something,” Dave said, closing his eyes.

“What—oh. Love,” I added, laughing.

“Al?” Dave asked after a moment.

“Mmm?” I propped myself up and looked at him expectantly, one hand resting on his shoulder.

“What’s your favorite part of the concerts?”

“I don’t know. I suppose at the end, after we finish waving at the audience and we go backstage and you hug me and you’re all hot and sweaty and really bloody happy. It makes me happy to see you like that,” I said thoughtfully, thinking about the first concert of this tour when he was so happy. I had thought he’d looked like a sweaty, beaming angel, I remembered.

“Really?” Dave had the biggest smile on his face, and he looked very flattered.

I smiled to myself and wrapped an arm around his neck. “Of course,” I said, yawning a little bit.

“You have beautiful fingers,” Dave told me quietly, before gently laying me down next to him. “You can do it, Al, I promise you’ll make it through the last few concerts just fine.”

He kissed me before closing his eyes, and I let myself believe him.

Maybe I could do it. Maybe I could do almost anything if Dave smiled at me like that.

I shook my head, wondering why I was thinking things like that. I was probably just tired. It wasn’t possible to love someone that much in my experience.

Dave shifted in his sleep towards me, his face looking completely peaceful.

Maybe it was possible to love someone that much, I thought as I rested my head on his shoulder. Maybe I just hadn’t had the right person before.

I could feel Dave’s heartbeat through his shirt as he moved even closer to me, and I suddenly knew that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with Dave.

I had never thought that about anyone before.

A thought like that would’ve normally scared me, but it didn’t now. Maybe I trusted Dave enough to know I was in good hands. Maybe I had matured. Or maybe I was just too lovestruck by him that I didn’t care what the consequences would be.

Who cared anyway? I had him next to me now, and that was really all that mattered, for now at least.

I closed my eyes and let myself have a well-deserved sleep, a wide smile still on my face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for bearing with me as I worked on this - I know it’s been a long time! I’ve been a bit busy and exhausted and just had a lot going on, and often I’d forget to write, so thank you everyone who reminded me! The end of this chapter sounds like the end of the story, but I promise you it’s not. 
> 
> Also, shoutout to users ‘Me’, ‘Leslie_1’ ‘Optimistic_eyes’, and ‘CharlieWilder’, all who have been loyal and sweet readers. Thanks to ‘karla’ too for leaving very sweet feedback on Chapter 7. It means a lot to me <3
> 
> One more thing - is there any specific time period any of you would like to see in particular? I’m bringing ‘84/‘85 to a close very soon, and I would love to know what all of you think. x


	9. Dave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alan and Dave finally return to England after touring and debate their future.

As we got off of the plane and reentered England and normal life, whatever that was now, I noticed that Alan seemed visibly happier. He was grinning and chatting amiably with Martin and Andy, and he had a relaxed smirk on his face. I knew that he had been unhappy, and had been for so long that I had nearly forgotten what he was like when he was happy.

We got our baggage, ate lunch at a fast-food place in the airport, said our goodbyes, and piled into taxis waiting outside. 

"Dave?" Alan asked as we helped the cabbie get our baggage in the boot of the taxi.

"Yeah?"

"Where are we going to go?"

I hadn't thought about that. His question was more like "What is going to happen to us?" but I didn't want to go there yet. 

"My place, I guess?" I suggested, telling the cabbie my address.

"Right." We were silent for a moment, and then Alan, glancing toward the cabbie, placed a hand over mine. "What's going to happen to us?" he asked, ruining my resolution to deal with that later.

"I don't know. I don't want to think too far ahead, but I want to be with you as long and much as possible," I told him, scooting a little closer.

He had a half-smile. “Thanks. But, I mean, honestly what’s going to happen? Are people going to know? Is this going to be a secret forever?”

“Al, I said I don’t know.”

“Maybe you should think about it then.”

I didn’t say anything.

“Dave...do you even want to know?” he asked quietly.

“I guess not. Can’t you just live in the moment?”

“No, I can’t. How can I not know what’s going to happen to me?”  
I was confused and slightly hurt. Didn’t he care enough about me to just take the plunge?

I leaned back in the seat more. “I don’t know. You could all through the tour, you know,” I said, and he sighed.

“That was different. Look, do you know what you want to happen?”  
I didn’t. I had never thought about it. Why, when there was the possibility of things not happening?

“Dave, listen to me. You can’t just not even know what you want for your future!” Alan said, that tired look on his face that he’d had all tour long starting to come back.

“I do know what I want.”

Alan raised an eyebrow. “And what would that be?” he asked persistently.

“Well, what do you want?” I asked after a minute, trying not to get annoyed. It was none of his business, was it? 

“I don’t know,” he imitated me, and I gave him a look. “Fine, I know that didn’t help anything. Seriously, though, Dave. If you want me to, you know...live with you, I have to know where it’s all going to end up. I can’t just not know if I’m going to ruin my life or not!” he said, raising his voice a little before glancing at the driver and lowering it again.

“Alright then. If you have to know, I never really thought about it.”  
“And now that you have?” Alan asked, more gently.

“Well, I guess I want to be with you?” I said, not very sure.

“You guess? I know I’m annoying you, but this is something you have to think about!” He looked down, playing with his hands a little bit.  
“I don’t guess, then. I know. I don’t care, do whatever you want, think ahead, I really don’t care.”  
“Really? You’re not kidding? The only thing you care about is having me around?” Alan asked in flattered disbelief.

I gave him a half-smile and nodded.

“I don’t know what to say,” Alan told me with a short laugh. “That’s sweet of you, but you’re really going to let me decide?”

“You’d do a better job than me,” I teased, smiling properly now.

“Well, we’ll talk about this some other time, but c’mere,” Alan finally said, letting me scoot closer to him again.  
The cab driver suddenly turned around. “Hey, you’re not Alan and Dave from Depeche Mode, are you? I saw you in a concert a couple months ago.”  
Alan and I looked at each other. “Well, it’s a long story really,” Alan started, panicking, but the cabbie cut him off.  
“You wouldn’t be going out, would you?” the cabbie asked, and Alan sighed.

“Don’t you dare tell anyone, not even your best mate or girlfriend or family or whatever,” Alan said firmly, looking very done with life. “See, Dave, this is why we have to think about things like this,” he hissed under his breath.

“Alright, fine, I’ll plan out every moment of my future because I’m worried about some cabbie judging us,” I hissed back.

“You don’t mean that,” Alan said, and he was right, frustratingly so.

The cabbie glanced back at us, clearly not knowing what to say. “Right, I swear I won’t tell a soul. We’re here now if you two want to get out,” he said, getting out himself and helping us get our baggage out of the boot. 

“He better not tell anyone,” Alan muttered as he helped me look for my wallet in my suitcase so we could unlock my house.

“I don’t think he will,” I said optimistically. Alan rolled his eyes in mock disagreement and fished my wallet out from between two of my shirts.

“You know Dave, there’s this thing called a pocket in your trousers and it’s terribly useful for keeping a wallet in so you don’t have to unpack in the front yard,” Alan teased as I unlocked the house.

“Well, anyone could’ve stolen it,” I said, helping Alan get the suitcases inside.

Suddenly we were completely silent. It was like everything was finally sinking in: I was living with Alan. Alan Wilder, my bandmate, the man who used to be my best mate, my...boyfriend.

Looking at Alan, he seemed to be having the same thoughts at me, and we shared a nervous grin, and then he kissed me. It was short, barely more than a peck on the lips, but it meant a lot.

“I love you, Dave,” Alan said, blushing. He gave me a quick one-armed hug and then we stood there almost awkwardly, having no idea what to say for the first time in a very long while.

“Well, do you want a beer or something?” I asked, and then we burst out laughing.

“Yeah, sure, anything to get my mind off of this awkward first date,” Alan joked, provoking more laughter. 

“Hey, Charlie?”

“Hmm?”  
“I’m really happy,” I said, letting him hug me again.

“So am I, but I’m also feeling really awkward. I’m not used to being this emotional,” Alan said with a laugh, sort of joking.

“Yeah, it’s going to get as bad as a soap opera if we keep hanging around,” I joked, but didn’t stop smiling.

Alan made a kissy face at me and then we wandered off to the kitchen to get a beer.

Even if I joked about it, I really was happy. I hadn’t really thought that Al and I would be like this. Doing things that normal couples might. I guessed in a way we were a “normal” couple, but we seemed so far off from it with the whole bandmate problem and the fact that one of us wasn’t a girl.

Who cared, though? I loved Alan. It was still surprising to me to think that; to look at him and think “I love him” was still oddly new to me, even though we’d been going out for about six months.

Alan nudged my shoulder and asked me what I was thinking about with that big of a smile. I hadn’t known I was smiling, but it didn’t come as a very big surprise seeing as I was so happy.

Alan was happy again too - as I told him just that I loved him he smiled too and eventually put down his beer and hugged me.

“Right, Mr. Smiles, you going to actually tell me why you’re so happy?” he said, rubbing my back. I did, leaning forwards and resting my head on his shoulder.

He didn’t say anything, but simply slipped his hand into my own and finished his beer with a nonchalant look on his face, talking to me like I hadn’t said anything like that (I guessed Al didn’t know what to say), and I might have been upset had it not been for how tightly he was holding my hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Many thanks to you if you're still reading this (and again to the users who have been leaving very kind comments, you know who you are!) - I'm not too quick or consistent with the updates as you can tell! I'm bringing 84/85 to a close now and ushering in the Black Celebration era as suggested by Optimistic_eyes_, one of the readers who has been leaving kind comments. I personally love the Black Celebration era, and no it's not just because of the fact that whenever I mention "Black Celebration", people's eyes widen due to the emo-ness of the name hahaha! I have some idea (SOME, I never exactly know where I'm going with fanfics) of where I want the next one or two chapters to go, so depending on how busy I am I'll try to get more chapters out more quickly. I can't promise anything though unfortunately! I’ve been learning HTML from the Archive as well (I’m a computer person but never got around to HTML) so that’s proven to be interesting. I’ve had to recode the formatting especially as it doesn’t like that I copy-paste from my word processor as I like being able to write offline. I still can’t believe I’ve written over 15 thousand and a half words for this! Anyway, thank you everyone for reading whatever this is. Happy Valentine's Day as well - couldn't really fit anything Valentine's related into the story which is a shame seeing how well it might've worked, but I'll leave it up to you to imagine how Al and Dave celebrated ;) until the next chapter, Crystal xxxx


	10. not really an update

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I know it's been forever so this is a little update on what's happening with this story :)

Hi guys!! 

I know it's been forever so I wanted to post this little update thing to tell you all where this is at. I think Feb 26 was the last update so it's been just over a month...

So first of all, my birthday was a couple of weeks ago!! I got ahold of a poster of Dave and Al :D I was planning to write more around that time but things piled up and my family and a friend took me on a surprise trip a few states away which distracted me, and I forgot all about writing. I've also been super busy and a lot's going on, and I haven't had a lot of time where I can sit down and be in the emotional capacity to write. 

Just to clarify, I'm going to continue this story and hopefully will be able to continue writing soon. Worst case scenario, I can write a quick last chapter and possibly come back someday and rewrite the ending for anyone who's stuck around or new readers, but I don't think that'll happen. Either way I swear I won't leave it here - even if the story is terrible I can't stand being left on a cliffhanger of any sort! 

By the way, do any of you guys know if this picture is edited (other than the stars over Dave's head ofc) ?? Because it looks like Dave and Charlie are about to kiss and I'd be greatly disappointed if it was fake! Here's the link (not my Tumblr) https://letmehearyoucryingjustforme.tumblr.com/post/183686761201

I hope everything is well with you and thank you all for reading this mess of a story!! <3 I will work on this again as soon as possible, and I have a vague idea of where it's going to go so it hopefully won't be a complete trainwreck :)

One more thing - I'm going to change my username to "strange_highs_and_strange_lowss" because I love that lyric so much and it seems fitting for someone like me :D So if you're reading this in a couple of days when, according to AO3, everything should be changed, it's still alanwildersgirl! 

I hope to see you all soon with a new chapter, and thanks to everyone who's still bothering to read this! 

Lots of love,

Crystal xxx


	11. Alan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alan and Martin get into an argument over the band's working relationships. Andy unsuccessfully attempts to calm them down, which results in him and Alan getting in their own fight over what's going to happen to the band. Dave and Alan continue to debate their future, wondering if there even is one for them.

Martin was waiting for me as I walked into the studio early that morning. Dave had been supposed to accompany me, but when I'd tried to wake him he'd only swatted my hand away and complained that it was too early, and Andy usually came in a couple hours after me, so it was just Martin and I.

"So, we're working on Shake the Disease today?" I asked, drinking the last of my second coffee that morning. "Play the demo again, would you?"

"All right," Martin said, putting the cassette into the player we kept on one of the shelves behind the main control panel. We listened to it a couple times, and I suggested that it be slightly faster.

"Yeah, I thought that it wouldn't be that slow either. Less of a ballad. And I thought I could add some opening vocals too?" he suggested.

"All right, I'll get Dave and see what he thinks about the vocals-" I started before Martin cut me off.

"No, we'll decide ourselves," he said, glaring a little.

"Why? We're not going to sing it, so shouldn't the person who's doing the actual singing have a say?"

"I was thinking I'd do the singing," Martin said, turning his chair around so that his back was facing me and fiddling with some of the knobs.

"You just said you wanted it to be faster, and you only do the ballads," I said.

"Well, why don't I demo more vocals and we can just put mine in?" he said firmly.

"No, because you've said yourself lots of times that you think you sound better doing the slow songs."

"Alright then, we'll just work on the song part and Dave'll come in later. Do you know of any samples you think would suit the song?" he asked, and I was becoming slightly irritated.

"The vocals are the basis of the song, so we'll quickly talk to him and he can do a rough sample and we'll work with that. We won't do the final takes and take forever if that's what you don't want," I said, glaring at him.

"No, Dave's not coming in now. What if we talk about the opening vocals?" Mart said sharply.

"We'll do the opening vocals later because they're based on the rest of the song which is based on the vocals!" I snapped. "Why the hell won't you just let Dave come in? He'll wake up fine if he has coffee, it won't take forever!"

"Dave's not going to come in because the two of you will get distracted and sneak off and you won't get any work done," Martin snapped back.

"What are you talking about?! We won't get distracted, we'll work just fine!" I retorted.

"Oh, no you won't. Dave'll sit in your lap and you two won't want to get anything done, you'll just want to make out," Martin said, raising his voice.

"Hey, watch it! Like you and Christina are any better, when we recorded in Berlin last time every time she visited you refused to even try to work. Don't think we didn't know about you guys in the storage room, for Pete's sake," I said, and his face went all red.

"Leave me alone," he muttered.

"Leave _you_ alone? You won't even let the lead singer be in the damn studio," I snorted.

"It's for a reason, you tosser," he grumbled.

"No, it's not. That's not true at all," I said, half-realizing at that moment that he was sort of right. Maybe we got a little bit side-tracked occasionally, but not nearly as badly as he made it out to be...well, maybe it was, but Dave had to be in the studio sometime, and we could bloody well control ourselves if we needed to.

"Not true? You living in a dream-land?"

"You're one to talk, always daydreaming in the studio and such, you're not exactly on top of the work either," I snapped.

"Stop it," Martin said, nearly tearful, and I would have felt bad any other time but couldn't bring myself to care at that point.

"Come on, Martin, you don't actually mean it, do you? You're just being petty because it's early. Stop it already and we'll get Dave and work properly without all of these stupid fights," I said firmly.

"I do mean it," he snapped, and he got up and stalked off.

Andy walked in, yawning. "Morning, Al. What's Mart all riled up about?"

I rolled my eyes. "Oh, he's just going on about me and Dave. Says we don't work anymore and all that crap. He won't even let Dave come in to demo vocals for Shake the Disease so we can start working on the song."

"He's got a point, Alan. You two get distracted too easily. I'm sure he's annoyed partially because you argued with him and sorry, but there's a high possibility you made everything worse. Couldn't you just have apologized even if it wasn't true and left it at that?"

"Why would I do that?" I asked, not very enthusiastic about letting Martin get away with insulting me.

"Because now we're going to lose almost a whole day of work at least, and Martin's not going to be very happy with you. Anyway, he's partially right. You don't have much self-control," Andy said, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh come on, you too? Should've seen Martin and Christina that time in the storage room," I muttered.

"Al, I was the one who had to tell him off because you and Dave were who knows where," he retorted.

"We were working," I said under my breath, never mind that it wasn't true.

"I'm not even going to respond to that," Andy snorted.

"Just did," I said, knowing I was being petty.

Andy ignored me. "Just try and have self-control, alright? It's a band, and you have to focus on the work. You've got plenty of free time."

" _I_ have to work? Sorry, I forgot that you've really been slaving away on the couch while I'm lounging around putting the songs together," I said irritably.

"Oh, not this argument again," he sighed. "You and I have different things to-"

"Right, I'm meant to mix the songs and you're meant to read the magazines," I retorted. "I don't have to do _all_ the work!"

"You know what? I don't even know if we can continue working like this," Andy said bluntly.

"C'mon, don't be dramatic," I groaned.

"He's not being dramatic, it's the end of the band and it's all your and Dave's fault," Martin said, making me jump. He was leaning against the doorway with a slightly hurt expression.

"Oh sod off, don't eavesdrop like that," I complained.

"Sorry, did I interrupt something? Not the first time I've done that," Martin snorted, and I nearly slapped him before Dave walked in, half-asleep.

"What the hell is happening? I thought we were working? Al?" he asked, rubbing his eyes.

"You know what? I give up," I sighed and left the room. I heard Andy yelling after me but didn't bother to look back.

I went outside, and sitting behind the building, I rested my head against the concrete foundation and wondered if Andy was right. Was it possible to carry on like this? Even if it was, the arguing would be too much.

Dave came around from one side of the building and sat next to me. "All right, Charlie?"

"I dunno."

"Mart and Andy told me what was going on. I don't know, maybe they were right, we could probably have more self-control. I'll take you out to make up for it if you'd like," Dave offered. "We could spend the night a couple towns away and do whatever we'd like."

"You think they're right too, huh?"

"Well, maybe. What do you say? I think we need that," Dave said, letting me rest my head on his shoulder.

"Dave...I think maybe it's too hard being in a relationship and in the band at the same time," I said.

The shock on his face was apparent, and I realized that he thought that I meant I didn't want to be with him anymore.

"No, no, I love you. I meant maybe I should leave the band," I suggested.

"Don't do that, Al! What would we do without you? You're the musician, you're the one who gives us our sound. And what would I do when we were recording and on tour if you weren't there with me?" Dave asked, putting an arm around me protectively.

"You'd do fine, you did before I was in the band. And I could visit you when you were in the studio and on tour, you'd be fine," I said quietly.

"No, I wouldn't be fine. Charlie, it'll all blow over, all right? Everything will be fine," Dave told me.

I muttered something about his unrealistic optimism, but let him stroke my hair and reassure me.

"What're we going to do about Martin and Fletch?" I mumbled into his shoulder after a while.

"We'll give them a few more minutes and then we'll show them that we can work just fine. And then what do you say to staying the night a few towns over?"

"Okay. No camping, right?"

Dave laughed. "No, you posh boy. Have you ever even been camping?"

"Yeah, I have," I said before shuddering. "Why would anyone ever do that?"

"For the nature, darling," Dave said, a wide smile on his face.

"Nature doesn't have synths," I joked, and we laughed.

"Hey Al?" Dave said after a minute.

"Mmm?"

"What's going to happen to us? I've been thinking about what you said a couple days ago."

"Well, I'm the one that doesn't know now."

"Maybe we don't have to know. Maybe we can just exist, and be forever snuggled on a couch talking to each other," Dave said softly, stroking my fingers.

"That sounds really nice," I sighed, imagining a life where I wouldn't have to worry about anything. "It would get boring though, wouldn't it?"  
  
"Probably. I just...what would a future for us even be like? We can't have children, we can't get married, we can't do most of the things a normal couple would."

"I know," I sighed.

"And I love you, and I don't want to take any of that away from you. Alan...I don't want this, and I feel terrible for even saying it, but what if this was just a fling of sorts? I can't give you a proper family, or life, or anything, and you need that. I don't, I'm all right, but I think you do," Dave said in a serious tone, his hand firmly on my shoulder. 

"I don't care if I can't have kids or a wife. Dave, I love you too, and that's what I need right now," I said, wondering if he actually meant it. "Dave...you don't think of this as a fling, right?" 

"No, Al, I didn't mean that," Dave said with a sigh. "I mean it could be a fling, it could end if that's what will have to happen. I want you to be able to do whatever you want, and if you want to have a family then I'll understand." 

I wondered if I should start to think about that. I was only twenty-six and didn't have a family of any sort, and I hadn't really planned on thinking about that as long as I was with Dave, and I hadn't thought about how long I was going to be with Dave. Maybe as long as we still loved each other. 

"I don't need a family," I said finally. 

"Are you sure?" Dave asked uncertainly, and I reached for his hand and smiled. 

"I'm sure." 

Dave bit his lip, wearing one of the widest smiles I had ever seen him with. "C'mon, Charlie, let's go back to the studio," he said, energetically pulling me along with him. 

"I'm assuming I don't get a choice?" I joked. 

"Nope," he said, laughing under his breath. 

I smiled to myself and when we got back inside the studio, I was in a good enough mood to actually apologize to Martin and Andy, and we managed to get a good amount of work done. Shake the Disease was turning out possibly even better than I had anticipated - Andy had leaned back partway through the first rough draft and announced that it was going to be a hit. 

I barely even noticed the music, though - I was thinking about what Dave had said. I couldn't change my mind now, of course, but I wondered if I would regret it later on. Then again, was a family something I'd ever needed? Maybe it wasn't for me either way. 

I was tired of being uncertain, and I finally decided to hell with the future. Looking at Dave as he excitedly chatted with me made me certain that I didn't need to care about what was coming, not yet at least. 

"Dave?" I asked after a minute. 

"Hmm?" 

"Do you think we're going to hide this from everyone else the entire time?"

"Oh. I guess so, I mean, we could ruin the band forever if people found out. I'm sure the odd person will find out, but other than that it's probably wise that people not know," Dave said thoughtfully, unlocking his house. 

"Yeah, that's probably right," I agreed, sort of disappointed that I had to hide something as important as this from everyone. "Oh well, we can still do anything we want now," I said with a smirk, and Dave laughed and finally let me kiss up and down his neck. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finally managed to write a chapter after more than a month! I hope it made up for the long delay in updates :) I can't promise anything but I've begun to get back into the swing of writing and it's enjoyable as always :D  
> Thanks again to whoever's still reading this <3  
> -Crystal xx

**Author's Note:**

> Don’t be afraid to comment! :)


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